


forty cockless nights

by typicalAcademic



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Blow Jobs, Enthusiastic Consent, Incest, M/M, Pocstuck, Stridercest - Freeform, implied abusive Bro/Dave
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-27
Updated: 2013-04-27
Packaged: 2017-12-09 15:38:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/775884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/typicalAcademic/pseuds/typicalAcademic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>striders whimper and you're very proud of it, thank you very much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	forty cockless nights

**Author's Note:**

> for my lovely moirail darden happy birthday u babe

you’re dreaming. you know you’re dreaming because there’s salty sea air in your nose and it smarts and he made you carnitas, that asshole, and thick slices of avocado and he’s smiling so big it’s like his face will split, the sun is warm, not hot, and the ocean is lapping at the corners of your brain. he’s there, in your dream, flesh and blood and bile and the television blaring is what wakes you up to remember bro doesn’t live here anymore.

dirk is yelling at the television, probably playing video games, sounding like he’s losing badly. you check your phone for the time -- eight in the afternoon, you’ve both become nocturnal as the days have continued to get hotter -- and roll off your mattress into a pile of clothing. some of it sticks, you pull on jeans and a shirt and try to not open your eyes too much. even with your shades its too bright.

unlike in your dream there is not the smell of delicious home cooking in the apartment or even shitty takeout. you grumble and shuffle down the hall and out into the living room where dirk is still very loudly assaulting the television. you yell at him shut the fuck up and grab an apple juice from the corner of the fridge you marked out with duct tape as “dave’s food”. old habits die hard. dirk laughs at you but quiets down. you peer out the closed blinds at the sunset; massively red and hot like nothing you’ve ever seen. no sea breeze to be had out there.

dirk moved in a few months ago. when you met you were scared he wouldn’t like you. scared of how timelines worked. scared he would smile like bro did. he does, his brown face grins just like a motherfucker but there’s no calculated malice in it. you’re kind of in love with him. mostly not for ironic purposes.

dirk pats the carpet beside where he’s sitting and you snort and sit more comfortably on the couch behind him, twining your fingers into his kinky pompadour. bato you say your hair is getting too long for this. he slaps at your hands and you kiss his forehead. i still like it. he hands you the controller and you alternate between kissing and having your ass handed to you at mario party.

come here mi pequeño joto he says, and it’s fucking irritating how much spanish he still knows that you’ve forgotten. that bro tried to push out of you. he’s standing in front of you with his hand out and you scramble up from the sofa. he’s a little taller than you and he bends down enough to kiss you on the mouth. what do you want you ask i thought you were having fun stealing my fucking stars. he chuckles and kisses you again and you figure you can take the hint that his pants are giving you but hey striders don’t give in without a fight. you poke him in the chest a few times and puff yourself up trying to seem bigger. trying to seem like you don’t want his lips on you again.

you’re not fooling me he whispers and he kisses you with one hand cupping the back of your head and the other gentle against your hip. you will never be used to how kindly he touches you but you will always crave the discombobulation, how your legs start to shake when he pulls away and looks at you over the top of his shades like some hollywood sex god right before cracking a grin that makes your heart skip ahead without the rest of you. he pushes you back against the arm of the couch and you let out a very strider-ly whimper as you throw out an arm to catch yourself. he flashsteps close -- just like another dave, another time, taught him to -- and supports you, pulling you against him, burying his lips in your neck. it makes you groan. undo those skinny hipster pants amor he says and you do, you do it quickly, you even start to tug them off but he swats your hands away and goes back to kissing your neck. he’s infuriating. you try to sigh, to rile him to action. it comes out a little too low but he pulls your jeans down anyway and coaxes your cock out from your underwear. just his fingers on the base. fucking obnoxious articulate nimble fingers. he drops to his knees in front of you and looks up with a wickedly orange gaze. your cock is embarrassingly stiffening as he eyes you. damn dave he teases when was the last time you gave yourself a low five. now your face is heating up too but your cock still gets harder and it's honestly making you mad how embarrassed you are, how you default to flushed faced panting, like a stupid thirteen year old getting his first handjob -- dave he whispers dave look at me he's pleading and you realize you were starting to tear up, you were dissociating entirely, dirk's crawling up onto the couch and pulling you close dave cosita mi amor i'm here and you're here it's gonna be alright. you shiver against him and kiss his chin, i love you please hold me please make me come i'm here i promise.

this isn’t new and it sucks a lot for sex, especially sex with dirk, to be a trigger for you. but he's so patient and doesn’t push you and you feel so safe with him. it’s not like the experiences you had can just go away with love but dirk is someone who gives you the support you want. he strokes your hair and kisses your forehead, do you want to wait he asks i can always make you come later but you give him a look and kiss him firmly. don’t make me beg you say and you cling to him while he slides your jeans off. he's tender as he touches you, he rubs your thighs, presses his lips to your bellybutton. your shades are sliding down the end of your nose and you watch as his tongue slips out and he drags it along your cock. it’s a light touch that makes you shiver because it isn’t enough, he knows it isn’t and that’s why he does it, so you reach up to push your shades up your nose and then his lips are tight on the head of your cock, tongue curling in a distracting way that means you gracefully smack yourself in the face. the tip of his tongue is making small circles under the head of your cock and you go silent, one hand covering your hot face, the other hand about to rip at the fabric of the couch.

his tongue, his fucking tongue, you could draw a topographical map of the tip of his tongue if only your dick had hands and you don’t care to take the time to think about how silly that sounds. he grabs for your hand and holds it, nudges it towards the back of his head and you gasp when he takes more of your cock in his mouth then pulls off and says c’mon amor fuck my face like you mean it and you groan and bite down on the fingers covering your face and give a few experimental thrusts. i’m gonna lose it if you make me do this you whisper and you feel him laugh, hot mouth vibrating around your cock. so you keep thrusting, just slow enough you think you can keep your cool, but he won’t let up, he slips under to grab your ass and makes you pound against his mouth. sometimes you start to get anxious now, when it seems like you should be coming and you aren't quite there, any time this year strider you whisper tensely to yourself but you look down to where dirk is glaring at you and what makes you come is that he’s pushed his shades up onto his head and is sucking on your cock like its his first in forty cockless nights and you come with cross-eyed, toe-curling intensity. even though that was the worst almost-romantic horseshit you’ve ever thought about him with his lips on you.

and as you snuggle him close to you on the couch, you whisper it in his ear and he knocks your shades off and can’t stop laughing and it’s the fullest, happiest sound you’ve ever heard.


End file.
